What Lies Below
by Valar Morghulis
Summary: For so long, speculations have abounded as to what exactly holds the Space Turtle up - space, or turtles? Now, at last, the world finds out. Rated K for blasphemy against the Great God Om. Oneshot.


From space, it is said, the Earth looks small; no, more than that, unimaginably tiny. Not tiny in itself, per se, but instead insignificant only when compared to its surroundings – the vast canvas of space, home to countless worlds and countless species.

We think we have it all figured out – the laws of physics and the motion of heavenly bodies and the workings of the brain and the chemistry of life, all bundled up and stuffed into a neat little bag labeled _Science_. But, just when our knowledge has reached its peak, when we can stand up and say for certain that yes, humans are the only sentient species in the galaxy, or no, no animal can possibly live in space…well, something comes along and proves us wrong.

Look! There! Already, she arrives. Swimming slowly through the æther, vast flippers pounding the immortal fabric of gravity; an awe-inspiring sight. Bigger than planets, older than stars; the vast intelligence in her eyes dwarfs the learning of men, puts our paltry civilization to shame. Here before us is a Space Turtle in all her magnificence: wonder of interstellar space, lifelong traveller between stars! Men, the same men who were so arrogant, so certain in their own knowledge and mastery of the known universe – these men stand humbled, gazing above themselves with wonder and awe and amazement.

Yet some trace of their pride remains, even if only in a small way. For of those billions standing, gazing towards the stars, not one pauses to consider: why, why out of all the millions of worlds out there did the Space Turtle come to ours? Not that it would have made a difference, for at that moment, the Turtle lets out an ear-piercing cry. Not fully sound, not quite a mental beacon, it nevertheless reverberates through the vacuum of space, somehow sending to all the listeners fierce emotions: protection, caring, warmth - even love.

Humanity watched, awestruck, and listened, opening their minds and their souls. But not for long. Only a matter of seconds after the first cry comes another – but not from the Space Turtle. It reverberates from beneath their feet, and in this call is only one thing: hunger.

The earth shakes – cities crumble – mountains fall – continents break apart as something huge, something _massive_ begins to stretch and stir. From the deepest part of the Earth comes a shape, bathed in fire and the remains of a world-spanning civilization.

* * *

Leonard of Quirm sits in his tower and watches with interest as the world shatters. He gazes fixedly out his window, committing the events to memory even as his mind began to dissect and explain what has just occured. Suddenly, he stops – dead still, not even breathing, as he concentrates with a single-minded intensity upon what is happening. Finally, it is over. Leonard sits back with a contented sigh, then straightens up again. He grabs parchment and quill and, in his looping, elaborate script, writes his first sentence: _"__A Treatise on the Reproductive System of the Space Turtle__."_

* * *

Below the Discworld, there are four elephants. Below the elephants, a Turtle. And below the Turtle? No-one knows. But there are speculations. Notable philosophers, wise men, scientists, even the Quisitioners of the Church of Om – all have guessed, or, in some cases, proclaimed the Truth. Maybe there _is _no Turtle – maybe reality is all just a dream. Maybe the Turtle is floating – perhaps there is a temporal rift beneath her, which, whenever the Turtle falls through, simply relocates her back where she started. Or it could be that the Great God Om (Holy Horns) is beneath the Turtle, holding her up. What's beneath him? Don't even go there.

And yet, there is one theory even more persistent than the others – a theory that is whispered in corners and murmured in secret rooms. No-one knows where it started – no-one even knows whether it is true or not. But there is always a chance; always a chance that it _is_ true, that below the Turtle there is _another _Turtle, spawned in the fire of a dying planet and baptized in the blood of billions – another Turtle, a new, better Turtle, an _evolved _Turtle – a Turtle with wings!

On the other hand, it could just be gravity all the way down.

* * *

_Please review! All feedback is welcome._


End file.
